The Babysitters

Chapter 25 : Oops

"We are coming over," Gabby and Jenny shouted, before cutting the call.

"Oh-kay," I said, more to myself, and stared blankly at my phone.

Yesterday was beautiful. After the dance with Dylan, we both watched Frozen along with Tiffany. The more time I spent with him, the more confused my heart felt.

I liked the way he looked at me. I liked the way he smiled at me. I liked the way his forehead cringed in confusion. I liked the way his eyes focused on the television.

But that was the thing. I only 'liked' everything about him.

"You confuse me so much, Dylan," I muttered, throwing my phone over my bed.

Jenny and Gabby were of no help. They did not even react to my confession, just cut the call.

"I wish Trystan was here," I frowned, looking at the hand over my window.

One minute.

A WHAT?

"Somebody call 911," I shouted in panic, and rushed towards the window.

"Wonwon wits we," an oddly familiar face appeared on the window glass.

"Sorry sir, but I don't speak Chinese," I cringed my eyebrows at the uninvited guest. He started tapping my window with all his strength.

"Are you crazy?" I panicked.

"Samantha? Is everything okay up there?" my mom shouted from her room.

"Yes mom!" I shouted back and opened the window to punch the anonymous Chinese guest.

Or should I say not so anonymous!

"Trystan?" I frowned, giving him a hand to come inside.

"I missed you too," he grinned, entering my room.

"What do you think you are? You don't enter a girls room at..." I paused to look at the watch, "at 8 o' clock in night."

"But I wanted to see you," he pouted and pulled me in a bone crushing hug.

"Yicksy boo!" I exclaimed, pushing him away, "I don't want your germs."

"You meet your favourite person after a day and that's how you treat him," he glared and sat on my bed.

"You ain't my favourite person," I rolled my eyes.

"Then who is it?" he wiggled his brows. For a minute the thought of telling him about Dylan crossed my mind, but I decided against it.

"When did you return?" I changed the topic.

"An hour ago," he smiled, but it was not his usual  cheerful smile.

"Hey," I sat beside him, squeezing his hands, "You can talk to me about it."

"I know," he kept his other hand on mine, "I am just not ready for it."

I nodded in understanding. Although, there was little part of me that wanted Trystan to share his problems with me. Where did he go? What is he hiding? But I kept quiet. Trystan never forced me to tell him my past, then who am I to force him?

"By the way, I finally got it," he grinned, taking out a new cell phone from the pocket of his jeans. It was an iPhone model.

"Finally," I grinned, examining his phone, "social butterfly can finally come back in action."

He frowned at me calling him butterfly, but before he could protest, my mom called my name from downstairs.

"Cookies!" I squeaked, "Trystan don't come out of the room at any cost. I'll be back soon."